


No Falling In Love

by Roguex1979



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Ice Play, Jealousy, No Strings Attached, Oral Sex, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Shower Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:37:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2132220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roguex1979/pseuds/Roguex1979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom is sexually frustrated, but doesn't have time for a full on relationship. Celia can't have sex with her husband, and he gives her permission to have no strings sex with someone of her choosing. It's the perfect arrangement. There is only one rule they both have: no falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I've have for quite some time and wanted to finally start getting it down. I will be adding additional tags along the way. This will be a fairly smutty multi-chapter fic, but there is also a plot. I hope you will bear with me, and I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please feel free to let me know by leaving Kudos or a comment. I looooooooove comments. :)

**PROLOGUE**

Tom unlocked the door to his flat, swung it open wide and wheeled his luggage in. He sighed contentedly to be finally home after a very long time away. First Crimson Peak, then High Rise…it was all getting a bit much. And he didn't have too long before his next project, but since both Crimson Peak and High Rise were still in post production and not yet due to be promoted, he had a couple of months off before he would have to jet off to start filming again.

Luke had tried to organise a holiday away for him, somewhere remote, but Tom had insisted that he just wanted to be in good old England for the duration. He wanted to see his family, his friends, take in a few shows, jog along the Thames and in Regent’s park again. He'd missed home so much.

He threw his keys in the bowl on the side table and closed the door, noting that nothing had changed, apart from everything was clean and dust free. The cleaning service Luke organised must have come just after he left, or just before he arrived. Either way, the place was immaculate.

Tom sat down on his couch and sighed happily, relishing in the familiar comfort. His routine from before he'd become famous already began to creep back into his being. “Cup of tea,” he muttered to himself and got back up, heading into his kitchen. Opening the fridge, he did not take for granted that someone had stocked it for him, finding milk along with a few readymade meals and groceries. There were even biscuits in the cupboard. “Oh, Luke, I could kiss you!”

After he'd made his tea and warmed up one of the pre-made curries, he watched a bit of television before deciding to have a shower and then go to bed. The flight from Ireland had not been long, but the length of time he'd been away and the early starts and late nights had taken its toll.

In bed, he writhed with a smile on his face, fully appreciating his own bed that he’d chosen himself rather than a rented or hotel one, loving the feel of _his_ sheets against his skin. Sighing, he quickly fell asleep after setting an alarm to wake him up for his morning jog.

He woke up way before his alarm though, wondering what had caused him to stir, when he realised he’d rolled over, but as he was sporting a hard on, it had hurt him to roll onto it. Lying on his back, he reached down to lightly stroke it. He hissed at the feeling and wrapped his fingers around the shaft more tightly. He tugged at the turgid flesh and tried to bring himself off, but struggled. He tried to imagine some fantastically beautiful woman, but drew a blank. He thought of co-stars, ex lovers, pornographic images…nothing was working. He wasn’t deriving any pleasure from the mechanical action of jerking off.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened to him. Over the stress of the two shoots and length of time since his last girlfriend, he’d not had time for anyone and had tried to satisfy himself on several occasions with minimal pleasure involved and more often than not, he gave up half way through. He’d thought about having one night stands but rejected that idea almost immediately. It could lead to all sorts of trouble.

Leaving it as a lost cause again this time, he rubbed the heel of his hands against his eyes, then stared up at the ceiling and felt sorry for himself. “God, I need a woman.”

~~~

“I’m so sorry, Mr Langshott, but it’s been over 6 months since the accident. There is very little chance you will regain any significant sensation below your waist now.”

Celia’s heart broke and she began to cry. Her husband, Alistair Langshott, took her hand from her lap and squeezed it tightly. “It’ll be okay, dear. It’s okay,” he comforted her. Why he was comforting her when he was the one who would never be able to walk again? Celia cried harder.

When the doctor left, Celia wheeled her husband into the drawing room of their mansion and sat him behind his desk so he could work. She then took a seat next to a large fireplace, which hadn’t been used since last winter, and picked up her copy of Hamlet. She tried to read it, but her eyes kept blurring. Eventually she put it down and sobbed softly, trying not to disturb her man.

Alastair, a man of great wealth and importance, in his late forties, a full head of chestnut hair, brown eyes and youthful look, looked up at his thirty-two year old blonde-haired, blue-eyed wife. “Darling, come here,” he requested softly holding his arms out to her.

Celia got up from her seat, wiped away her tears and went over to her husband of six years. They had met at a charity auction all those years ago and had fallen in love, despite the age difference of nearly fifteen years. Celia had been impressed by his articulate manner and how thoughtful he was, thinking nothing of donating nearly a million pounds to the cause, although she suspected he’d done it specifically for that reason; to impress her. It had worked and they’d been together ever since, beating the terrible press and gossip magazines who said it wouldn’t last a year; that the barely known fashionista was likely only after his billions that he’d worked hard to earn through wise and often times shrewd investments. Even when there had been low times, he’d nearly lost everything, Celia stuck by him. Her love for him never waned, and his for her. They’d married after only two months.

She swivelled the arm of the wheelchair out of the way and automatically sat on his lap, and this made her cry again. He couldn’t feel her weight on his legs, and probably never would again. She hugged his broad shoulders tightly, burying her face in the junction of his neck.

Alastair hugged her just as tightly back. “There’s something I wanted to discuss with you,” he started softly. Celia lifted herself up too look into his eyes. “I want you to find someone else.”

“Alastair…” Celia began, but he cut her off with a finger against her lips.

“Listen to me, I know you keep saying this is a ridiculous idea, but you have needs that I can’t fulfil anymore.”

She didn’t want to have this conversation. Ever since the car accident that caused such severe spinal damage to Alastair leaving him paralysed from the waist down, he had consistently told her to find someone else. She had initially thought it was his mind taking him to dark places, but even when he seemed in high spirits, he’d bring this subject up. “But you might get better…” Celia said softly, knowing what Alastair would say next, dropping her gaze from him.

“Darling, you heard what the doctor said. I will never regain any feeling now. It’s been too long.” He placed a finger gently on her chin and used it to raise her back to his eyes. “Hey, I’m being very serious this time. Now that it’s official, I don’t want you to _never_ feel pleasure again.”

Celia smiled. “I don’t need to be physical to have pleasure in my life. You give me pleasure, Al. And besides, if _my_ pleasure is all you’re worried about, you have perfectly good fingers…” She raised a hand up to her mouth and kissed the digits lightly. “…and a wonderful mouth.” She kissed his lips, equally lightly, but Alastair grabbed the back of her head to stop her from retracting. He deepened the kiss and their tongues swirled together. Celia cupped the side of his face and when they both needed more air, she pressed her forehead against his, panting softly. “See?”

Alastair chuckled. “I do see what you mean, dear, but, know this; I love you so much, and I want to see you happy. If that means giving over your physical pleasure to another man, then so be it.”

Celia felt tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t want to end what we have.”

Alastair pulled her in for another hug. “Oh, darling, that’s not what I had in mind at all. I know you love me just as much as I do you. We would not end our marriage. We are more than just our bodies, you and I. We are heart and spirit and soul, and no one can take that away from us.” He pushed her back and kissed the tip of her nose. “Please, let me find someone for you.”

Celia wasn’t sure, but she knew that nothing could come between her and Alastair, their love was too strong. She had almost already written off their physical relationship, they hadn’t done anything more than kiss and cuddle since the accident, and she was content with that. But, she _had_ felt the stirrings of need in her loins, and even though Alastair could use his fingers or mouth, it was not something he’d ever really been keen on doing for lengths of time. So she could immediately understand why he was suggesting what he was suggesting; a kind of ‘get out clause’.

With a shuddering breath in, and letting it slowly out, she nodded. “Okay, Al,” she agreed. “But, _I_ want to choose, and I’m not rushing into anything.”

Alastair smiled at her. “That’s fine, dear. But one condition, okay?”

“What’s that?”

“No falling in love.”


	2. The Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Celia meet for the first time.

**THE PROPOSAL**

[ ](http://s1369.photobucket.com/user/Roguex1979/media/tomslightlylonghair_zpse82188e7.jpg.html)

Tom stood in the crowded bar room with a glass of champagne in his hand, lightly propping up the bar. He glanced around taking in the impressive décor and artwork. He caught Luke’s eye and nodded his head and lifted his glass in salutation. Luke wandered over to him. “Hey, sorry about dragging you into this,” he apologised.

Tom stood up tall, took a sip of his drink and smiled broadly. “It’s fine. Who needs a holiday anyway?”

Luke chuckled. “You’re still on holiday, Tom. You’re just lending your time for a worthy cause as well. How were your mum and Emma?”

“Good, thanks. Emma’s about to do another short film and mum is, well, mum.” Tom scanned the room again, not seeing too many familiar faces. “Remind me again what this is all about?”

Luke grabbed a passing barman and ordered himself a drink. “This event was put together by Alastair Langshott and his wife, Celia, to help the charity ASPIRE with some new equipment and regeneration of their facilities. As you may know, months ago, Alastair himself was in an accident leaving him paralysed from the waist down, so this charity is quite dear to his heart.” Luke leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “Word has it that he found out he will never recover from the injury and threw this soirée together in short order. Celia Langshott, who has connections in the fashion industry, saw this as an opportunity to showcase some of her friend’s work, all the items of which will be on offer. And all sale proceeds will go to the charity.”

Tom nodded solemnly. “I suppose I'll have to make a donation?”

“Well, you could always purchase one of the smaller items from the show, like a necklace or earrings...give them to your mum, Emma or Sarah.”

“And am I going to be required to meet my hosts?” Tom asked.

“Of course.” Then Luke raised an accusatory finger. “So no getting bladdered!”

Tom smirked and took a deliberate deep drink from his glass before feigning innocence. “Do I ever?” Luke raised an eyebrow. “Wait, really?! I don’t remember…”

“That’s because you get bladdered!” Luke laughed.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen,” a well-dressed man at the door said. “If you would be so kind as to join me in the ballroom where the fashion show is about ready to commence. And a reminder to pick up your pamphlet so you can put in bids for each outfit and item on show. Highest bids win! Please give generously!”

Tom placed his glass down on the bar and made to follow the crowd. “Well,” he said to Luke, who followed after him, “time to buy my mother a very expensive birthday gift...”

~~~

[ ](http://s1369.photobucket.com/user/Roguex1979/media/Celia_zps54bb7ae6.jpg.html)

Celia had stood to the side of the ballroom and watched as the fashion show ended. There had been massive applause and her friend, Marshall GoGo, as he called himself, had taken to the catwalk to thank the crowd for coming to the show. He had encouraged them to hand in their pamphlets with their bids on the items for sale, and the winners would be posted on the announcement board shortly.

Now, she stood with her husband as the winners of the various items were walking up to them in a respectable line so they could thank them for their participation.

“Celia, darling!” Celia beamed broadly as she recognised her Aunt Ophelia dressed just as outrageously as she remembered, while gloves that reached her elbows, a bright pink dress and adorned by a very real sparkly tiara and matching diamanté necklace and the highest heels Celia had ever seen. Without shame she cut in the line. No one seemed to mind though, all enjoying social chatting and drinking. “This has been a simply wonderful event! Well done for pulling it together, Alastair. You are a credit to the charity.”

“Ophelia, thank you,” Alastair said from his wheelchair. Ophelia bent down to give the man a kiss on both cheeks and then gave Celia a hug.

“What did you purchase, Aunty O?” Celia asked, curious which of the many equally outrageous styles she could have chosen from.

“Actually, dear, I needed to speak to you about that. Would it be bad form if I approached one of the winners and asked them to relinquish their prize if I increased on their bid?”

Celia looked to Alastair, who shrugged. “I...I'm not sure if that is bad etiquette, Aunty. I suppose you could ask. What was it?”

[ ](http://s1369.photobucket.com/user/Roguex1979/media/mystictopaznecklace_zps74938983.jpg.html)

“Well, it was this simply gorgeous mystic topaz necklace that I was eyeing up and thought I'd put in a good bid, but this...actor person put in a larger bid. I was pipped at the post by a few hundred quid!” Ophelia looked down the line of winners. “Oh there he is!”

Celia watched as Ophelia waltzed down towards a rather tall and dashing looking young man. “Oh!” she exclaimed.

“What is it, darling?” Alastair asked.

“That's Tom Hiddleston. You know, the actor who played Captain Nicholls in War Horse, and Scott F. Fitzgerald in Midnight in Paris.” Celia smiled, remembering seeing him in the Hollow Crown television series.

Alastair looked towards the sight of Ophelia introducing herself to the man, who smiled politely as the eclectic woman pleaded her case, and he grinned. “Ah yes. I seem to remember you being quite...vigorous after watching him play King Henry V.”

Celia blushed, remembering that night. Tom had certainly sent her into a frenzy, not that Alastair had complained. In fact, he'd mentioned purchasing the DVD when it came out if that was her reaction! Then she felt a little sad remembering those better times when she and her husband could still be intimate, or fuck like wild animals.

She snapped out of it when Ophelia dragged the poor man towards them, once again cutting the line. “Celia, this is Tom, who is absolutely exquisite! He's agreed to let me raise his bet, although he did drive a hard bargain.”

Tom, lowered his head briefly and chuckled. “Well, yes, it was going to make a very fetching present for my mother along with the matching earrings, but this wonderful woman agreed to increase my bid by over £1000 just for the necklace!” He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “What a magnificent gesture, if that is allowed, of course.”

Alastair chuckled. “I’m sure Paul will allow it.” He took Celia’s hand and gave her a kiss on her knuckles. “Darling, will you stay here and thank the rest of the winners while I take Mr Hiddleston and Aunty O to sort this out?” Celia nodded and smiled. “Very well,” he said and took off towards where Paul Parrish, Director of Fundraising for the charity, was situated. “Come along, Ophelia. You have a rather large cheque to write out. You come too, Mr Hiddleston.”

Celia grinned as her aunt and husband wandered off. She waved as Tom turned back briefly to glance at her with a sheepish look on his face, then she couldn’t help but admire his firm behind as he followed them. She bit her bottom lip and then hoped no one had seen her blatant ogling.

~~~

When everything was finalised with Paul and Ophelia had sashayed off to flaunt her purchase and Tom had the earrings, Alastair stopped him before he wandered off again. “Tom...er, may I call you Tom?”

“Oh yes, please, I’d prefer it,” Tom answered.

Alastair smiled. “Tom, I have to say that my wife and I are big fans of yours. Celia, bless her, is a huge Shakespeare fan as well, and I was rather wondering if you wouldn’t mind sticking around a little while longer after the event closes so that we can have a proper introduction? If you don’t have to be elsewhere.”

Tom looked around to see that the crowd was thinning and Celia was thanking people for coming as they left. It didn’t seem like it would be too much longer, and he was sure Luke didn’t have anything planned for him after this. “I’ll just check with my publicist, but I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

Alastair nodded and left him to it. He quickly found Luke at the bar and told him of the plan. Luke said it was fine and to let him know when he got home. He stayed at the bar, not drinking too much alcohol until he was the only one left while the barman was clearing up.

He was just making small talk with with the young man when he heard a soft clearing of throat behind him. He turned and saw Celia Langshott standing there and once again, his breath caught, just like it had when that Ophelia woman had dragged him to meet her. He’d managed to hide it then; he wasn’t so sure he did as well this time. She was a stunningly beautiful woman; her medium-blonde hair highlighted with lighter tones fell to below her chin, straight as a die, a side parting hiding one of her intensely blue eyes, which were surrounded by modest shadowed make-up; her lips only glossed and her pale cheeks showing a hint of rouge.

Her husband was a very lucky man.

She seemed unaffected by his lack of response and smiled at him, showing not perfectly straight, but suited her wonderfully, white teeth. “Still here, Mr Hiddleston?”

Her husband obviously hadn’t told her he’d asked him to stay. “Tom, please,” he insisted. He held a hand out, which she took gracefully. “You have a lovely home, Mrs Langshott,” he said indicating around him.

She laughed, and it sounded like a tinkling bell. “Call me Celia. Mrs Langshott is Al’s mother and makes me sound so old!”

Tom laughed. “Celia, then.” He shifted from foot to foot. “Your husband had asked me to stay, although I can’t imagine why.”

“Well, we are huge fans of yours, or at least, I am,” Celia said and he noted the blush staining her cheeks below the her make-up. “I’m sorry if it took you from anything important.”

“It’s fine, darling,” Alastair called from the door, “I already made sure he was alright with it.” The man was smiling like a mad man and Tom suddenly wondered what he’d gotten himself into. “Would you both join me in the drawing room?” He scooted off and from Celia’s laugh, Tom imagined she was surprised by his actions too.

~~~

In the drawing room, Tom marvelled at the floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books upon books. Celia watched him as he roved amongst the dark mahogany furniture and along each shelf until he reached her section with all her works of William Shakespeare. “This is amazing,” she heard him whisper as he found her very rare publications, his finger only grazing the covers as he was gentle with them. She couldn’t help wondering if he touched a lover in the same manner.

“Would you like a whiskey, Tom?” Al asked wheeling himself over to his globe, unlocking it and pulling it back to reveal his most expensive drinks. Celia suddenly felt nervous about this meeting if he was offering his best to Tom.

Tom accepted the drink and sipped it, closing his eyes to relish the taste, making a small delighted sound. “Thank you. This is very good!”

Alastair motioned for Tom to sit down and Celia took her usual place by the fireplace, which she noted Al had arranged to be cleaned before the party. “So, Tom,” the middle-aged man started, “are you currently single?”

Celia’s heart thudded in her chest as she now knew exactly where this conversation was going to go, but she held her tongue to wait for Tom’s answer. Surely he was in a relationship, although if he was, would he not have brought her with him tonight? And the earrings he’d won were a gift for his mother, not a girlfriend…if so, the discussion would be cut short.

“Er, yes, actually, I am.”

“Al!” Celia hissed warningly. “That’s not really something we should be prying about!” Her mouth had gone dry, and she quickly took a sip of her own drink. She glared at her husband, mortified that he was about to start this without discussing it with her first.

Alastair grinned at her and knocked his drink back. _Oh good, now he’d have no trouble speaking his mind, which he was usually able to do anyway,_ she thought sourly. “I’m not prying, dear, only asking.” Al looked at Tom, who was glancing between the two of them warily. “As I mentioned before, Tom, we’re big fans of your work. You’re a very talented actor. Your Henry V was exquisite and certainly left a huge impression on Celia here, who loves Shakespeare.” Celia wished the floor would open up and take her. While she was sure Tom didn’t really know how big of an impression he made on her, her husband was certainly alluding towards it with his suggestive tones.

“I noticed you had a large collection,” Tom smiled and looked at her.

“Al always buys them for me when he hears one is available,” she said and noticed Tom taking a much larger sip of the drink this time. “Will you be doing any more?” she asked, hoping the conversation had turned, and out of curiosity as well.

“Nothing lined up just yet, but I’m always looking for an opportunity.”

“Speaking of opportunities,” Alastair interrupted bringing the talk back to where he wanted it to be, “I’m going to get right to the point of why I asked you to stay behind.” _Oh god_ , Celia thought, but before she could stop him, he went for it. “Tom, how would you feel if I asked you to sleep with my wife?”

“Al!” Celia shrieked as Tom choked on his drink. She got up and patted him on the back. “Al, what are you thinking?” She noted that once he was recovered from the drink going down the wrong way, Tom was wide-eyed, his hand clutching his glass white-knuckled and completely speechless. She thought it was a good thing the tumbler was the heavy crystal, otherwise Tom’s strong grip would have shattered it. A thought of him gripping her like that flashed through her mind, but she shook it off as she heard him clear his throat.

“I’m sorry….what?”

Alastair continued. “It’s nothing sordid, I assure you.” He quickly explained his position to Tom and his reasoning behind it like he had with Celia two weeks ago, and Celia blushed darker and darker as the speech went on and Tom glanced at her, downing his drink, presumably to calm his nerves. He even told him about the sex marathon they’d had after watching Henry V, and Celia felt like she left her body, it moving by mechanics alone.

When Alastair stopped for a breath, Celia stood in front of Tom and smiled apologetically. “Tom, would you please mind giving me and my husband a few moments? I need to talk to him alone.” Tom nodded and stood up quickly, putting the glass on a side table and letting her shuffle him to the door. She opening it for him and let him through it. “You can leave if you want,” she whispered to him pointing towards the front of the house. “I am so sorry for this.” She then closed the door and whirled on her amused partner. “How dare you ambush me like that!” she grumbled not above a steady tone of voice.

Alastair laughed, his brown eyes dancing with mischief. He pulled her into his lap and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Darling, please, I know I said I let you choose your paramour, but you wouldn’t really object to him as a lover, would you?”

Celia was still annoyed with him, but less so when he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head against her bosom. “No, I supposed I wouldn’t,” she relented after a few moments, running her fingers through his soft locks. “But I’m angry that you just sprung it on me. At least you could have waited to talk to me about it before you propositioned Tom about it! I think you nearly killed him.”

“He’s fine. He was just a bit shocked. But he’s a grown man, and I’m sure he can handle a direct question like that.”

“Yes, he seemed to handle it _very_ well,” Celia said snidely. “But you embarrassed me! Especially when you told him how I’d jumped on you after Henry V!”

She felt him chuckle for a bit, but then he took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, my love,” came the response from her chest, and Alastair looked up at her, all the mischief gone, replaced by puppy-dog eyes. “Forgive me?”

Celia snorted with laughter. His puppy eyes always made her forgive him. Of course, he knew when and when not to use them. “Of course I do, sweetheart. I love you.” She kissed his lips and he deepened it and she felt elated.

When he broke the kiss, Alastair smiled. “You’d better let him back in,” he said with a pleased tone, knowing he’d won.

Celia got off his lap and headed to the heavy doors. “He’s probably made a run for the hills by now. I told him to escape while he still could.” But she opened the doors nonetheless, and was startled to see Tom still there, looking intently at a beautiful painting on the wall. He turned to look at her and he smiled. Still shocked, she beckoned him inside.

“Ah, good man,” Alastair said with a grin as Tom strode forwards, but declined to sit again. Celia couldn’t help notice his entire posture was changed, like he was more confident now, no longer confused or worried like he’d obviously been before. “So, have you managed to give any thought to our proposal?”

Tom turned to look at Celia and she was shocked to see very apparent eagerness in his aqua eyes. When he turned back to her husband, she gulped. “Mr Langshott, the timing couldn’t be better,” he said sincerely. “I would be honoured to take you both up on your offer, if that is indeed what Celia wants.”

Alastair looked at Celia for the final word. Even though he’d kind of dropped her in it, he was still giving her an out. But, she realised without any doubt that Tom couldn’t be more perfect for this little tryst. She nodded.

Alastair looked relieved. “Excellent! In which case, I think we have some ground rules to set…”

~~~

Tom didn’t even know how he got home, his mind was so overwhelmed with thoughts of Celia and Alastair and their proposal. It was perfect! A married woman whose husband was giving her permission to have sex with someone else; him with no time to keep a girlfriend and being able to simply call on her when their schedules allowed, which for the next month at least was nearly all the time until he started filming again.

And Celia was so beautiful that she definitely made his trousers tighter to think about her. So, when he lay in bed that night with a raging erection, he didn’t hesitate to call back the image of her from tonight, bringing himself to a thunderous orgasm, leaving him breathless.

If that was the reaction he had with just his memory of her, he couldn’t wait until their first real rendezvous.

 

 


	3. The First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter. This is the first time Tom and Celia have sex and to be honest, I hadn't wanted to describe the actual act in such detail, but this is how it turned out.

**THE FIRST TIME**

It was awkward. Oh, it was so very awkward!

It had been agreed by all parties that the first time he and Celia were to have sex would be in the safety and comfort of the Langshott’s estate, as per ‘the rules’, but of course, at the time, Tom hadn’t been thinking too clearly, the champagne and whiskey clouding his now waning confidence. He had also thought it would just be him and Celia.

He’d arrived at their home in his Jaguar, and Celia herself had answered the door, looking radiant in a powder-blue sleeveless blouse and loose fitting grey linen trousers, which Tom had laughed at since he was wearing a light grey suit with a blue button up shirt (no tie). Celia had also laughed at the coincidence. He’d given her the bouquet of flowers with a smile, along with a chaste kiss on the cheek, and she then invited him into the lounge after their butler took Tom’s overnight bag for him, offering him a drink before dinner. Alastair had joined them shortly after, and Tom thought he’d managed to hide his surprise, but he must have failed because Alastair laughed.

“Don’t worry, Tom! I can assure you, I won’t be joining you for the bedroom activities. I’m just here for dinner and to make sure Celia is still okay with everything.” Alastair’s words did nothing to stop Tom’s apprehension. They’d made small talk, the air thick with tension.

Then they chatted, or rather, Alastair chatted, about ‘the rules’ they had set. Tom had been rather pleased with the lack of rules or limitations that Alastair had set, the underlying understanding that this was all for Celia, and so if Celia said it was okay, it was okay. If Celia said stop, he stopped without question. She would tell him what she liked and didn’t like, no fantasy or whim was to be ignored (unless Tom was very set against it, morally speaking).

“You concentrate on _her_ pleasure, Tom, you understand?” Alastair had said sternly. “No getting in there for yourself. Don’t you _dare_ leave her dissatisfied!” Tom nodded at this. As far as he was aware, he’d never left a lover wanting. “And of course, tonight is simply a trial. If Celia decides not to continue with you, that’s it. And I think it goes without saying that if this goes beyond tonight that discretion is of the utmost importance!” They all agreed.

Now the three of them were sitting in silence, eating their meals, and Tom felt decidedly uncomfortable. He was never okay with silence, but he just couldn’t think of anything to fill it with. How did you start talking to someone you were about to have sex with when their husband was in the room? He glanced at Alastair, who was the only one looking at all at ease. Catching his eye, he grinned at Tom with amusement, but said nothing. If Tom didn’t know better, he would have thought the older man was enjoying this discomfort a little too much.

“Uh, after dinner,” Celia said, blessedly breaking the silence, “I’ll show you the new book Al got for me...”

“When I am banished to my drawing room for the night,” Alastair interjected feigning melodrama. He chuckled when Celia glared at him. “Sorry, love, but I really thought Tom would be a bit more forthcoming. He’s usually so talkative in his interviews.” He looked at Tom, taking a sip of his wine, and Tom was surprised to not be reading any sort of jealousy from the man. His teasing seemed to be good-natured and he genuinely appeared to be entirely okay with this situation. “Please, Tom, if you need to ask Celia something about what you’re about to do, you don’t have to be shy. I know all about her body, her moves, her sweet spots, her likes and dislikes, her fantasies so there isn’t anything to be embarrassed about.”

Tom swallowed his chicken and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “Well, yes, but, and you will have to pardon me for saying so; you don’t know anything about _my_ body, moves, sweet spots, or likes and dislikes, Alastair,” Tom said matter-of-factly, “and I’d prefer to keep those between me and Celia, if you don’t mind?”

Alastair chuckled and took another sip of wine. “Touche. Fair enough,” he laughed and they fell back into silence.

~~~

Celia had been racking her brain for something to talk about at dinner other than what was about to happen, and then her silly husband had to go and ruin it, but she was glad Tom had stood up for himself, even if Al had only been teasing. But when he announced after dinner he was retiring for the evening, she felt a measure of relief. They had discussed the evening extensively with each other to ensure it went as smoothly as possible, but Al butting in like he had was not part of it.

Alastair wheeled himself in the direction of the drawing room and Celia led Tom upstairs to a large guest bedroom that was as far away from her marital bedroom as possible, at her insistence. It was like a small apartment in itself with a main room that had two door leading off it; one into the bedroom (Tom’s overnight bag had been placed neatly on a chair next to the bed) and the other into a bathroom. The main room was lavishly furnished and contained a large bookcase with several novels, works and bios, but taking proud center stage in a glass display case in front was a bound book. Celia pointed Tom towards it.

“This is the book Alastair bought for me. He’s been negotiating for weeks apparently.”

“Oh my god,” Tom whispered as he realised what it was. “A Shakespeare Fourth folio, 1685, contemporary binding with fine gilt work, _including_ the seven spurious plays! Celia, this book is worth over £150,000!”

Celia nodded and ran a finger along the corner of the glass. “Do you want to look at it?”

Tom sputtered. “Are you crazy? I’ve had far too much to drink to contemplate holding this!” But the look on his face told her he was dying to touch it.

She got the key from a drawer and unlocked the display case. She then pulled the book out. “It’s a lot sturdier than it looks, so don’t worry about it. It’s already been partially restored.” She handed the book to Tom, who held it softly like it was a precious baby.

Looking around he went to sit at the desk and opened the pages carefully. He leaned forwards and breathed in the scent. Celia giggled watching him carefully turn pages for a while, not saying anything, before she decided to pour some drinks for them both. She placed a glass tumbler next to Tom, who immediately pulled the book away from the liquid.

“I think this needs to go back in it’s case with _that_ around.” Celia took the book from Tom, who took a deep drink from the glass as she placed it away. “Your husband must love you very much to have bought that for you. I take it he’s not a huge fan of Shakespeare?”

Celia took an equally large drink, suddenly feeling very nervous. “He knows I like it, and he can understand it, but it’s one of _my_ passions, and yes, he loves me enough to look into purchases like this from time to time.” She took another gulp of her drink. Tom did the same. They looked at each other nervously for a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” Tom said suddenly with a nervous laugh. “I’m usually a lot more suave than this.”

Celia shook her head. “It’s okay. These aren’t exactly usual circumstances.” She cleared her throat. “You have to understand that I haven’t had sex for the last 7 months with Alastair, and it’s been quite a while since I’ve had sex with any man other than him.”

“Understandable.” Tom finished his drink and put the glass on the desk. “So, how would you like to proceed? I know it sounds clinical, but…” He left the query open for her.

Celia finished her own drink. “Another?” she asked. “We’re already nervous, it can’t hurt too much to get slightly tipsy, right?”

~~~

After a few more drinks, Tom and Celia were giggling like school children, although their conversation was far from childish.

" _’It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks, the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-buttock, or any buttock!_ ’" Tom quoted in a funny voice, standing tall and reciting Clown from All’s Well That Ends Well, which left Celia in stitches.

“Stop! Stop!” she giggle-snorted holding one hand to her stomach and the other out waving at him. “My sides hurt!” She curled into a ball and rolled over onto her side, still snickering.

Tom laughed and went to take a drink, but his glass was empty. He noticed Celia’s was as well. He was feeling quite drunk, and since he probably outweighed her by a fair few pounds (understatement since he was pretty sure he could probably fling her about like she weighed nothing) and towered over her by at least 6 inches, he thought she must be completely hammered. He put his glass down and sat next to the ball that was beautiful, radiant, funny and sweet Celia Langshott.

Over the past hour the two of them had started chatting about Shakespeare, their common ground. Along the way, he found out that Celia was also very smart, but hadn’t used her smarts to make the right choices when she was younger. She’d never done anything hugely bad, so the press had never had any fuel for gossip, but she’d apparently dropped out of high school with a suspected pregnancy. This had turned out to be false and she’d simply rebelled against her parents. When Tom had sensed Celia was venturing into territory she would have preferred to keep from him, he diverted them back onto Shakespeare, beginning to quote their favourites.

Celia uncurled herself and wiped away tears. “I always thought the language he used was so...unnecessary,” she said, still laughing slightly.

Tom feigned shock and put a hand over his mouth, which made Celia bite her lip to try and stop herself from laughing again. “How can you say that?” Tom put a hand on his heart, like he’d been struck. “His effect on vernacular English is only matched by that of Geoffrey Chaucer. The modern way we speak, and also think, has been more heavily influenced by Shakespeare then most of us realise; from the way we sign our Valentine’s cards to the way we insult our enemies, Shakespeare is everywhere!” By then, Celia was fitting in giggles again. Tom smiled.

Celia looked at him, her face slightly flushed with the drink. “Most people wouldn’t understand the words these days. They wouldn’t know an insult or love poem if it was said to their face.”

Tom grinned. He stood up again and helped Celia to her feet, holding onto her upper arms to steady her. He cleared his throat. “ _‘If thou remember'st not the slightest folly, that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not loved: Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, thou hast not loved: Or if thou hast not broke from company, abruptly, as my passion now makes me, thou hast not loved.’_ ”

Celia blinked and Tom couldn’t stop looking into the oceans of blue that were her eyes. “That was...beautiful,” she whispered and Tom felt compelled to kiss her.

He lifted a hand and brushed her fringe gently to the side attempting to tuck it behind her ear, which was only partially successful and leaned forwards, brushing his lips over hers tentatively. “So...you apparently enjoyed my performance as King Henry V?” he asked, his voice low and seductive, almost like a whisper.

“Oh yes, very much so,” she whispered, not pulling back although he could sense her apprehension.

Still holding onto her left bicep and placing his other hand behind her neck, he kissed her fully, closed mouth to begin with. He kept his eyes open, if only to see her reaction. When he saw her eyes slide closed, he did the same and deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue gently against her lips, begging entrance. She obliged and they swirled together, dancing lightly, although Tom’s grip on her tightened slightly, bringing her body flush against his.

~~~

Celia threw her arms around Tom’s neck as he transferred his embrace to her waist and hips. She could feel his hardening length against her navel as she had to stand on her tip toes as he stood upright. She felt slightly unbalanced and Tom held her tighter.

The kiss was fiery, passionate, and was beginning to leave Celia light headed. She pulled away from him, panting slightly. Tom loosened his grip so she could stand properly. “Bedroom,” she whispered.

Tom nodded and took her hand, leading her. Before long, they were kissing again, fervently, hands finding each other. Tom had long since shed his suit jacket and had undone the top two buttons for comfort (and they’d both shed their shoes), so Celia went for the rest. Her hands were trembling through nerves though. As much as she wanted Tom at the moment, she couldn’t shake the fact that she was a married woman about to have sex with another man, even if her husband had organised it all.

“Allow me,” Tom said pushed her back slightly, in fact, he herded her towards the bed and when her knees hit the sides, she sat down, looking up at him. He grinned and stepped backwards, slowly unbuttoning the shirt whilst looking at her with eyes that burned with lust. When he reached the last button, he opened the shirt to reveal his taut abs a clearly defined pecs. Celia took in a breath and unconsciously licked her lips.

Shedding the shirt entirely, Tom began to unbuckle his belt. He pulled it out of the loops with slow determination and it joined his shirt on the floor. Celia couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever used the belt on a lover before in some way, either tying her up or to lightly redden her rear. The thought brought a flush to her cheeks. She would ask him another time, she resolved to herself.

She suddenly felt very overdressed and stood up from the bed. She went to undo the poppers of her blouse, but Tom’s warm hands over hers stopped her. He looked into her eyes. “There are two ways we can do this, Celia. You’re obviously very nervous, so you have the choice; either we do this hard and fast to get it over and done with…” at which point he simply pulled her blouse apart, the poppers giving way easily, a gasp of surprise leaving Celia’s throat and a twinge of pleasure jumping directly to her core, making her clit throb, “or I can go as slowly as you want. I’ll take my time with you, explore you.” To illustrate this point, he ran his fingers lightly down her cheek, her throat, her collar and played with the lace fabric of her bra before ghosting over her hardened nipple, his other hand finding the flesh of her waist just above her hip, his touches sending further fire into her soul.

She needed him. She wanted him. Nerves be damned. “Take me,” she asked of him. “There will be plenty of time for exploration later.”

She saw his eyes light up before he attacked her lips feverishly, pulling the blouse from her body, her hands going for the button and zip of his trousers and pulling them down his hips, not fully, while he reached around and found the hooks of her bra. He had it undone in expert order and stepping away from her he pulled it off her shoulders. For some reason, she felt compelled to cover herself, but he must have anticipated this because he immediately grabbed her solidly and hugged her to him, their flesh pressing against each other. She felt his muscles even against the softness of her full breasts and she imagined he could feel her rosy buds poking him just as she could feel his now fully erect cock through the fabric of his underwear.

Celia suddenly found herself on her back on the bed and moaned as Tom ran his hands down her sides, his thumbs grazing her bosom and then waist and stopping to untie her linen trousers. He popped the button open and then slowly pulled them down her sculpted legs, revealing her matching lacy panties, which, in the contrast between the heat between her legs and the coolness of the room, Celia could feel was soaked with her desire.

“Tom please!” she begged as he stood up straight and simply looked at her. “Remember; hard and fast. You said it was _my_ choice.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Tom said. “But you are so beautiful, I just had to stop to admire you.” He grinned, not sorry at all, she could tell, and pulled his trousers off fully as well as his socks. Left in just his boxers, he matched her in near nakedness and he joined her on the bed. He immediately rubbed himself against her hip. “Feel that?” he asked. She nodded. “You’ve done that to me, and since the proposal was put forward, I’ve thought of nothing else but being able to bury myself between your thighs.” He kissed her again, placing a large hand against her breast and squeezing firmly, then toying with the nipple.

Celia moaned against his mouth and gently encouraged him to lower it along her ribs and belly and down to the tops of her underwear. She needed him to touch her. She realised she needed this desperately, all nerves now gone, and despite his promise that it had been her choice, he didn’t seem to be in a rush to fuck her, preferring to tease her. She even growled when he teased along the elastic of the flimsy material.

“Tom, just, please!”

“Eager,” he chuckled, but obliged, pushing the fabric to the side and dipping two of his fingers shallowly inside her.

Celia arched her back and groaned, eyes closed as she relished the feeling of his long digits slipping slowly deeper. She bucked her hips forcing him further inside and she felt him throb against her hip. When he pulled out, she lamented the loss but it was just as quickly forgotten as he teased her aching clit with wet fingertips.

“Your pleasure first,” he muttered, his fingers circling slowly at first, dipping back inside her to gather more of her fluids before returning back to the little jewel, speeding up gradually.

Celia couldn’t keep her voice quiet. She was surprised by how skillfully he read her reactions and slowed down or pressed harder as her needs dictated. It was almost like he was inside her mind, knowing exactly what she wanted at just the right time. She tried not to compare to Alastair’s skill, but she couldn’t help it. Alastair was good, but Tom was a cut above the rest. It didn’t take long for her over sensitised body to reach a peak and come crashing down with an orgasm that left her shuddering and shaking with no doubt that Tom had taken Alastair’s instructions to heart.

Panting and feeling her skin cooling when she hadn’t realised she’d broken into a light film of sweat, she watched as Tom brought his fingers up to his mouth and she groaned as he sucked on them.

While she recovered slightly, Tom knelt beside her and pulled her panties away from her body leaving her completely bared to him. He removed his own underwear and Celia’s eyes widened. He was huge! Bigger than Alastair or any other man she had ever been with in both length and girth. But she couldn’t wait to feel him stretching her from the inside.

She held her arms out to him and Tom wasted no time climbing on top of her, nudging her legs apart, the tip of his erection brushing against her wet slit. “Are you ready?” he asked her and she smiled at his genteel. With a nod and bracing her hands against his shoulders, she felt him push inside of her.

~~~

Despite how tight she was, Tom slid smoothly to the hilt thanks to how wet she was, hissing as he went at the feel of her passage squeezing him. 7 months she said it had been. Felt more like a lifetime! And once he was seated fully inside, he heard her whimper. “Are you okay?” he gasped through his teeth.

“Yes,” she answered breathlessly. “It feels so good!”

Tom couldn’t help but laugh. “I haven’t done anything yet.” And he pulled back and snapped his hips forwards again, eliciting a sound from Celia that didn’t sound human, her well manicured fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders, but the look on her face was not that of pain, but pleasure, so Tom did it again, and again, each time getting the same or similar reactions. “Okay, hard and fast, yeah?” Celia nodded and he buried his face between the juncture of her shoulder and neck and set a fast pace, thrusting as hard as he could, hearing his pelvis slapping against her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his lower back and screamed in pleasure.

He could feel himself dangerously close and wondered if he’d hold out long enough for her to climax again. Lifting himself up and onto his knees, breaking pace for a moment, he changed the angle of his thrusts and watched as Celia came undone before his very eyes again.

She flung her arms above her head and lifted her hips higher causing him to brush against her g-spot and she came almost immediately around him again, her already tight tunnel constricting around him, choking him.

“Oh god!” he cried out and with a few more erratic thrusts, he came sending thick ropes of semen deep inside her, her fluttering muscles milking him for all he had. Belatedly, he thought he should probably have sheathed himself with a condom, but Alastair had said there was no fear of her falling pregnant and he hadn’t imposed by asking too many questions, simply assuming she was on birth control.

Collapsing on top of her, but mindful not to crush her, he could feel her beating heart racing against his chest and the skin on his back cooling rapidly. He shifted off her and rolling onto his back, he pulled her closer for cuddles. He loved cuddling after sex, and a sudden thought occurred to him. He had no idea what would happen next. Did she go back to her own bed with her husband, or would she stay with him?

Glancing down at her, he noted a smile on her face as her breathing returned to normal. “Celia?” he asked. She looked up at him sleepily, the combination of alcohol and sex quickly creeping over her.

As if she knew what he was about to ask, she nuzzled closer. “I’m staying here for now. Can’t just be ‘wham, bam, thank you man’.” She grinned.

Laughing, he shifted them so he could pull the blanket out from under them and then pulled them over to keep the chill off. When they’d settled back comfortably and were both on the edge of sleep, Tom asked, “So, did I pass the test?”

He felt and heard Celia giggle lightly. “Yes, Tom. You passed the test. You smashed the test into little pieces.”

Tom couldn’t help but feel relieved and he tightened his embrace of her slightly before letting himself be claimed by slumber.

 


	4. Getting into a routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The awkward first time over with, Tom and Celia meet as often as they can.

**GETTING INTO A ROUTINE**

Tom woke up not too long after falling asleep to the bed shuffling. He instinctively reached for his lover, but found the bed empty. He shifted onto his elbow to look around the room to find Celia wrapping herself in a robe and gathering her clothes. He’d had a feeling this would happen, but based on the amount she’d drunk only a few hours earlier, he was surprised she was even able to get out of bed.

Celia noticed him wake up and smiled, her face lighting up even though her hair was a mess and the room was dark. “I’m sorry, “ she whispered, coming over to the bed to plant a small kiss on his forehead. “I have to go back to Alastair. I promised him I would.”

“Completely understandable,” he replied and flopped back down onto the pillow, barely even hearing the door to the room click shut.

A few hours later, in the light of the morning, he showered and got dressed and wandered downstairs to be ushered into the conservatory by the butler for some breakfast. He was munching on a croissant and jam when Alastair wheeled in. He instantly felt uncomfortable and struggled to say anything apart from an awkward salutation. The two of them sat in silence until once again, Alastair broke it.

“You wore her out,” he grinned. “She’s still asleep.”

Tom sipped on his tea, not sure how to respond. _Well, yes, I really stuck it to your wife and made her orgasm twice...that on top of the alcohol we consumed would had to have worn anybody out_. He shook his head. “I’m...not really comfortable discussing it.” Alastair didn’t look at him, instead looking out over the vast gardens still layered with a light morning mist in the shadowed areas. “Is it always going to be like this?” Tom asked carefully. “You on the scene?”

Alastair chuckled and shook his head. “No. It was just this one time. I’m sure you must appreciate that I want to keep her safe and secure. I love her very much, Tom.” Then, when he turned to look at him, Tom saw sadness in the older man’s brown eyes and it perplexed him. “Please take good care of her.”

Tom smiled gently, suddenly understanding that Alastair’s bravado was a mask; that the man was actually very scared. Giving his wife to another man for sexual gratification was a dangerous game, and he felt he could lose her. “I will take care of her physical needs, and with gusto, I assure you, Alastair. But her heart belongs to you. I have no intention of taking that. No falling in love, remember?” He lifted his tea cup and held it up and towards him.

Alastair looked very relieved. “You’re a good man, Tom. I’m sure Celia is in the hands of a true gentleman with you; one that understands honour.” He lifted his own cup, clinking it against Tom’s.

~~~

The next time that Celia and Tom met, it felt a lot more relaxed. For starters, they met at a hotel. Yes, it was a room in a hotel that Alastair owned and the room was perpetually booked for him or his use in any way he saw fit, but a simple call to the hotel from him meant anyone could use it with his permission. So it was that Celia would tell Al when she wanted to use the room and then he would arrange it. Again, Alastair was insisting her telling him each time she and Tom were to meet was for her own safety, plus using the hotel was safer because it was full of loyal and heavily vetted staff, so there was less chance of Celia and Tom’s meetings being questioned. Celia was grateful for all of this.

In addition, as soon as Celia opened the door to the penthouse suite, Tom grabbed her (having arrived earlier incognito), not really giving her any opportunity to feel nervous, kissing her soundly and leading her immediately to the bed where he proved to her that not only could he bring her to a shattering orgasm using his fingers, but he was pretty talented with his tongue as well.

Their meetings were as often as Celia’s schedule would allow. Being the wife of a billionaire meant her duties were little, although her friend’s fashion label was partly her doing, so she oversaw some of the background duties for this. Those duties never lasted very long and so she found herself thinking about Tom a lot, calling him up at to arrange meetings while he was on holiday from his acting as often as she could while Alastair was working. But she always left the hotel to go back so she could spend the night with her husband, no matter how late they would finish their sessions.

“Do you have to go this time?” Tom asked a couple of weeks later, holding onto her hand as she tried to get out of bed, not really tightly, and only let go when her fingertips slipped from his outstretched hand.

She stopped and looked at him, taking in his form. The bedsheet was draped over his slender hips, but the treasure trail leading to his skillful cock was just visible. He was looking at her with a mischievous smirk, his head propped on one arm bent at the elbow. He patted the empty space next to him.

Celia laughed. “No, Tom, I don’t _have_ to go, but I want to be with Alastair because he’s going away next week and I’ll miss him. Besides, you have that meeting with Luke later this evening, don’t you?” Tom groaned and flopped onto his back and muttered how boring it would be. She stifled a laugh at his childish pouting. “I’m going to hop in the shower.”

Stepping into the hot spray, Celia ran her hands through her blonde hair, feeling the water cascade down her body, soothing her well-worked muscles. She always felt stiff after sessions with Tom, but always satisfied. She hadn’t realised she would need him as much as she did. Even she and Alastair didn’t have sex as often as she and Tom had, well, not towards the accident at least. At the beginning, she and Alastair had been like wild animals, their lust consuming them in the most delicious way, rutting almost daily. Then as they settled into married life and routine, the sex became routine as well, albeit not very often, but Celia had found it hadn’t mattered to her. She was enjoying her married life with Al, their connection much deeper than physical.

Thinking about how she and Alastair used to fuck all the time made Celia’s clitoris throb. She was surprised considering the workout Tom had put her through not an hour ago. She rubbed her thighs together to try and stop the feeling. She grabbed her shampoo and washed her hair, but her mind was well and truly ensconced in a memory of her and Al. Her hands drifted from her head lower down her body, grazing her taut nipples and flat stomach, reaching lower still. She lightly touched her sensitive nub, a low groan escaping her lips.

“Oh, you started without me.” Celia squeaked and whirled round to find Tom about to step in behind her. He was grinning. “I see you’re feeling insatiable today.” He stepped into the spray and hissed slightly at the temperature that Celia liked to have her water, but he quickly sighed with pleasure as he got used to it. He grabbed the liquid soap and foamed it up in his hands before rubbing it along her shoulders and neck. “Turn around, love.”

Celia smiled and obliged. She let him clean her body for her, his large hands working not only the soap, but her muscles as well. She sighed as he rubbed down her back and over her buttocks, but stiffened slightly when he moved his arms around her body to her front and one hand soaped her mound, the other coming up to grasp her left breast and play deftly with the nipple. Still horny from thinking about her husband, she spread her legs slightly for Tom as a finger slid between her wet-from-the-shower-and-her-own-juices folds, slipping easily inside.

Celia gasped and clasped at Tom’s wrists, not trying to stop him, but just hold on in case her legs gave out, as Tom pinched her nipple harder and curled his fingers inside her, his growing erection pressing against the cleft of her ass. “Mmmm, darling, I love the way you’re clenching around my fingers even after the seeing-to you got earlier.” Tom’s voice penetrated her every fibre, his tone low and seductive. “I also love the idea of you in here about to bring yourself off despite that.”

Celia, amidst her quiet moaning, felt herself being pivoted and pressed up against the glass wall of the cubicle, the breast not encased in Tom’s palm pressing against it, the cool contrast between her warm skin and the cool glass making goosebumps rise along her flesh. She transferred her hands to the glass to stop her from being completely squashed against it, Tom’s lithe but hard form pressing against her.

Tom continued his ministrations on her bosom and inside her core and began rubbing himself against her, moving smoothly thanks to the soap, slowly, in long arches until he dipped himself lower and, removing his fingers, replaced them with his cock. Celia groaned and Tom began long languid thrusts, not hurrying, his fingers still working her nipple, his other hand moving up to join its partner.

Celia pressed her legs together but bent forwards slightly, the angle working well for her and squeezing Tom at the same time, knowing she would be much tighter for him. She knew she’d done the right thing when Tom grunted and squeezed her breasts harder. From the sessions they’d already had, she had picked up a few of his tells and could deduce that he was close to spilling. Likewise was she close to her goal thanks to his clever hands. She crossed her feet at her ankles and squeezed her thigh muscles tighter to increase the friction on her clit. It didn’t take much longer for Tom to climax, his voice echoing in the enclosed space with her name on his lips, the sound of his undoing tipping Celia over as well.

After pulling out of her carefully and lifting her back to stand, Tom continued his cleaning of her and then himself, and after sloughing off the soap, he cupped her face and kissed her softly before getting out to dry off. Celia watched him leave the bathroom and smiled, then felt slightly guilty that she’d actually been thinking of Alastair through that session.

~~~

Tom had his head propped up on his fist, his elbow leaning on the table and was staring into space, a small smile on his face as he remembered how beautiful Celia had looking naked and wet in the shower earlier. There was something amazing about that woman in general, but her body slicked with water from the shower or sweat from their activities was something to behold. He thought about other ways he could make her body glow like that.

“Hello? Earth to Tom?”

Tom lifted his head suddenly and blinked at Luke, who was sitting opposite him in the restaurant. “Sorry, what?”

Luke sighed. “Where did I lose you?”

Tom had to think. “Something about...cheese?”

Luke looked like he was about to facetable. “Tom, what the heck has gotten into you? I know you’re entitled to have a break from work and such, but I’ve been trying to arrange this meeting for ages and you’re always busy!” Luke leaned forwards. “It’s a girl, isn’t it?” Tom chuckled and actually blushed slightly. Luke frowned. “Goddamnit, Tom, you know you’re supposed to tell me shit like this! How can I manage you properly if you’re going to keep something as important as a relationship from me?”

“Relax, Luke, you’ll give yourself an aneurism,” Tom said picking up his fork and twirling it around his fingers. “Besides, I can’t tell you anything. I’ve been sworn to secrecy. I think I may even have signed a confidentiality agreement,” he joked.

Luke put his head in his hands and rubbed his face. “Oh god! Please tell me it’s not someone high profile!”

“It’s not someone high profile.”

“You’re lying.”

“You’re the one who told me to tell you that!”

“Oh god!” Luke smushed his face harder into his hands. “This is going to be a PR nightmare! Who is it, Tom? You tell me right now!”

“I can’t.”

Luke puffed his chest out, cute, considering it didn’t actually make him look any tougher. “Now you listen to me, Tom Hiddleston. You have a contract with the company that states that any and all relationships have to be divulged to them via your publicist, aka me, for your protection and the protection of any other party involved. So whatever ‘confidentiality agreement’ you may have with this apparently high profile girl is superseded by…”

“I love it when you talk legal to me,” Tom breathed out seductively and ran a finger over Luke’s hand.

“Tom!” Luke hissed as the older man laughed, leaning backwards. “I’m serious. If word gets out about your relationship and Public Eye is the last to hear about it, they will have my head!”

Tom sighed. Luke was right, of course. “Okay, but I need you to not freak out or get judgemental until I’ve told you the whole story.” The look Luke gave him was petrified horror, so he dived right in, hushed tones so that no one else around might be able to hear them. Tom watched Luke’s face go from outright shock to quiet mortification and then anger.

“Are you crazy?!” Luke hissed. “This is worse than a potential nightmare; this is a living hell if it came to the surface.”

“Well, it won’t, I promise,” Tom assured the young man. “We don’t go out in public, there are no feelings involved…” Luke snorted. “...what?”

“You just spent my entire rendition of your schedule with your mind on her, and I know you,Tom. You fall hard with your heart on your sleeve.”

“That won’t happen here. She’s married and they are very much in love with each other. I’m just a warm body to…”

“No! Lalalalala!” Luke shouted putting his fingers in his ears. “I don’t want to know what you get up to. I’m not listening!”

Tom watched his friend with amusement as he shut his eyes and shook his head. When Luke recovered, they got down to the serious business of Tom’s upcoming role as Hank Williams. The filming had been pushed back a couple of weeks, which meant Tom would only be travelling to America in October and would be back for the New Year, or possibly before Christmas.

As they wrapped up the meeting and dinner, Luke cleared his throat. “Look, just be careful with this...thing you’ve got going with her. As I said, I know you, and I’ve never known you to not associate sex and love.”

Tom looked at Luke with a serious expression on his face. “I know what I’m doing here. This is temporary and exactly what I need. It suits us both.” He grinned. “No falling in love; just a bit of fun. I think I’m entitled to it, working as hard as I do.”

He knew Luke couldn’t argue with his logic and with another stern warning to keep it all on the down low, Luke told him he’d email him all the plans for the flight to America and the itinerary and they went their separate ways.

~~~

Celia bounced slowly and surely up and down on Tom’s cock, her breath hitching as she angled herself so that he rubbed against her g-spot each time, her hands gripping his tightly in front of her as he aided her movement, their fingers entwined tightly. She rode him for her own pleasure, and she was so beautiful doing so, Tom observed. Her mouth was open, her head thrown back in pleasure and her eyes closed, her hot passage squeezing him tightly, bringing him closer and closer to his own climax.

A particularly hard squeeze of her left hand in his right brought unexpected pain, although not enough to disrupt his concentration of her. He glanced over and noticed that her wedding ring was biting into the skin of his own fingers as Celia lost herself in bliss and came undone above him. He went back to watching her as her muscles constricted around him. He let go of her hands and lifted himself up wrapping his arms around her waist and while she was coming down, he sped her up and finished quickly inside her.

Lying behind her as the big spoon, he draped an arm over her and toyed with her fingers, absently spinning the wedding ring round and round as he listened to her breathing slow. He buried his face in her hair and breathed her scent in deeply. As an experiment, he tried to slip the ring off her finger.

“No,” she mumbled sleepily, and withdrew her hand.

He chuckled behind her and pulled her against him tightly, relishing in the fact that she was about to fall asleep, and was still lying in his arms this time.

_“You’re a good man, Tom. I’m sure Celia is in the hands of a true gentleman with you; one that understands honour.”_

Tom had no idea that those words could ever come back to haunt him.

 


	5. Broken Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastair leaves for work and Tom learns a bit more about Celia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may not have any described smut, but that's because there was going to be a HUGE smut/sex scene, but it was proving to make the chapter waaaaaaay too long, so effectively, I've split the two, so it's actually shorter than the others. This chapter has a bit more plot/character development, but nothing that'll bore you, I can assure you. READ IT! Don't skip it. There is a lot of important stuff that you'll need for later on. :D
> 
> There will be amazing smut in the next chapter to make up for it, I promise.
> 
> There is also a small flashback, which is all in italics. This is the only way I've input it, but hopefully it's clear enough that you'll know that is what it is at the time.

**BROKEN PROMISES**

Celia sat in Alastair’s lap and hugged him tightly. “I’m going to miss you,” she said, snuggling her face in the hollow of his neck, breathing in his scent.

“It’s only for a week, my love,” Alastair said, but hugging her equally tightly.

“I know.”

Alastair lifted her chin with a hand and kissed her soundly on the mouth, their tongues dancing with each other, eyes closed, breathing harshly through their noses so they wouldn’t have to cut it short for lack of air.

A clearing of throat followed by gagging sounds could be heard and Celia pulled away from Al to glare at her brother-in-law, who was still pretending to throw up. “Oh grow up, Quin!” Celia sniffed, no real wrath in her voice as she knew the younger sibling was only teasing.

“Don’t worry, I’ll sort him out in the car,” Alastair smiled.

Quinlan Langshott laughed. “You two always gang up on me.” His face grew serious though as he looked at his watch. “But, really, Al, we have to go otherwise we will miss our plane.”

“It’s _my_ plane! How are we going to miss it?” Alastair laughed as Celia stood up reluctantly. The butler came back inside for the last few bags. “Quin, call the airport to say we’re on our way, but take it outside. I need to speak to Celia alone.”

Quin rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath about them not being able to keep their lips apart for more than a few seconds, but headed towards the front door of the manor. Celia watched the young man pull his phone from his pocket to make the call and disappeared from view. She loved Quin. She’d met him at her wedding and even though he was still her senior by nearly 10 years, he acted like a child most of the time. Like Al, he was blessed with youthful looks and quite often was on the party scene, all the while taking care of accounting for Alastair’s firm. And for brothers, the two of them got on so well.

“Celia, my darling,” Alastair began taking her hand in his, “I know I’ll be gone longer than normal, but you have duties to attend to, so it won’t seem like all that long, will it?” He wasn’t wrong. Celia’s fashion friend, Marshall GoGo, had a launch show coming up for his new line and she had quite a few things that still needed organising. “And I know you won’t be _lonely_ in any case,” he continued with a knowing wink.

Celia smiled. Alastair, ever being supportive of their arrangement they had with Tom, had suggested that Tom stay with her while he was gone rather than use the hotel suite. His only stipulation: _not in the Master bedroom or his study._ When she’d mentioned it to Tom over the phone, she had sensed a measure of excitement from him, and had laughed. He told her he’d be there after Alastair had left, still not entirely comfortable with the situation, and that had been best anyway since the affair was being kept from Alastair’s family too.

With a final kiss goodbye, Alastair left, helped into the car by both Quin and his butler before they sped off for the airport.

~~~

“Tell me about your fantasies,” Tom whispered into Celia’s ear as he languidly stroked her arm. He was spooning her again in the guest bedroom after a rushed dinner and fast-paced sex romp that left Tom’s mind reeling. He guessed Celia was already missing Alastair and she was trying to fuck the pain away. And fuck him she did!

The question had been playing on his mind for ages now. The sex between them was always mind-blowing, but Tom considered sharing in a woman’s fantasies, and enacting them if he could, a privilege. He knew not many women’s fantasies were fulfilled.

Celia giggled. “My fantasies?” she asked. “I...don’t know. I don’t think I’ve thought about anything like that.”

“Liar,” Tom teased. “Every woman has a fantasy, if not more than one.” He could feel Celia was holding her breath. “Go on…” he encouraged softly.

“Well,” she began, “I guess there’s the usual; sex on the beach after a sunset ride, perhaps a public place…”

“Naughty minx,” Tom growled, nuzzling the back of her neck, knowing he’d never be able to fulfill those fantasies since they couldn’t risk being seen in public. “Carry on.”

“That’s about it.”

Tom chuckled. “So, no fantasies about being rescued from a gang of blood-thirsty pirates by a dashing hero and gratefully thanking him? No meeting in a bar for the first time and having illicit and unknown sex? No naughty college girl meeting her professor to try and improve her grades?”

Celia laughed at each of his suggestions. “Sounds like those are _your_ fantasies,” she said.

“No, just ones that have been shared with me by past lovers.” He ran a finger lightly down her side and over her naked hip, slipping it down the dip and curve of her pelvis, noting the goosebumps that made themselves known and then laying a warm palm flat on the skin below her belly button. He could tell she was holding something back, so was trying to relax her more. “If you have a particular fantasy and you tell me, I might be able to make it a reality,” he encouraged again.

Celia shifted slightly and her buttocks rubbed against his slowly growing cock. Even he had been amazed at how quick his recovery was with Celia. He just couldn’t get enough of burying himself inside her. She was like a drug that he was addicted to, and was happy being so. He groaned slightly when she did it again, and then he knew she was trying to distract him. “What are _your_ fantasies?” she asked.

Tom groaned and gripped her hip slightly as she continued to grind softly against him. “Oh, you know, the usual,” he murmured into her hair, “meeting a sexy married woman, being asked to fuck her brains out whenever she wants by her husband…” She smacked him lightly on his thigh. “Hey!” he chuckled. “Darling, my fantasies are not what we are discussing here. This is all for your pleasure, remember. Now tell me before I tickle it out of you.” His hand already started making its way up her belly and to her ribs where he’d discovered by accident that she was ticklish.

Celia squealed and shifted away from him, but he wound his arms around her waist and held her snugly against him. He nuzzled the skin below her ear with his scruff that he hadn’t bothered to shave off for the last two days and she giggled and tried to get away. “Okay! Okay!” she snorted, her legs flailing around, her hands pushing at his arms. “I’ll tell you!” Tom let her go and sat up as she scrambled up, covering herself with the sheets. Her smile slowly disappeared. “But, please, don’t...just…” She sighed. “It’s kind of taboo, so I don’t want you to feel obligated to do it. And if you think I’m a freak for wanting it, just forget I told you, alright?”

Tom laughed. “That bad, is it?” he joked, but the look on her beautiful face told him she was being serious, and was obviously embarrassed. “Okay, I promise I won’t think you’re a freak.” He held a hand on his heart to show his sincerity.

Celia smiled. “Okay, well, its...god, how do I put this? It’s…umm...”

Tom could see she was struggling and already had an idea of what it could be. “Lack of control? Forced?” he ventured knowing a lot of women had that kind of fantasy, but were scared to be labelled as ‘wanting to be raped’. He saw he’d definitely hit the nail on the head when Celia’s eyes widened, but she didn’t deny it. He smiled gently. “Hey, it’s okay, Ce,” he said reaching out to take her hand. He rubbed her knuckles lightly and waited for her to continue.

“Well, don’t get me wrong, it’s not with a stranger and it’s not really anything that I don’t want in reality.” Celia bit her bottom lip. “I have the fantasy that I come home and there is someone waiting for me, maybe with a gun or a knife, he then forces me to the bedroom, makes me strip in front of him. He’s domineering and commanding and powerful. He makes me do things that I wouldn’t normally do, like play with myself in front of him, makes me take off his clothes, a blowjob and I’m helpless to stop him. Then he has his way with me, uses me for his own pleasure…” She trailed off and looked at him shyly for a reaction.

Tom hadn’t realised he was holding his breath through her little scenario. He let it out slowly so he wouldn’t startle her. “Darling, that is a perfectly normal fantasy to have. Obviously if that ever happened in real life, it would be awful, but with someone you trust in play, it’s different.” He scooted closer to her, kissing her on her temple and putting an arm around her. He cleared his throat. “In the fantasy, were you ever tied up? Gagged?” Celia blushed more and looked away, but nodded. Tom hugged her closer. “Well, thank you for sharing with me,” he said. “I would like to help you out with that one of these days if you’ll let me.” He felt her nod again.

With a wicked grin, he flipped her position so she was straddling his lap and immediately slipped his erect cock inside her, groaning as she engulfed him. This was one of his favourite positions with her, because he could see her face scrunch when he hit her g-spot, watch her tits bounce up and down, could suck on her nipples when she leaned forwards to give him a face full, and, if he was being truthful, felt exhilarated that she was the one doing the work, enjoying his body to bring herself to her peak of pleasure, as she did now. It didn’t take her long to come, and when she collapsed on top of him, he took over thrusting for himself, following her shortly, coming deep inside her with a satisfied grunt.

They lay there, entwined for a good few minutes, just panting, Tom stroking Celia’s hair when she stirred and got off him. He sat up and smiled at her, then got confused when she put on her robe and grabbed her clothes. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Celia looked at him and he saw guilt in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said and his heart dropped into his stomach, “but I want to sleep in my bed tonight.”

Tom furrowed his brow and had to reign in most of his disappointment. He couldn’t stop part of it from surfacing though. “He’s not even there,” he pointed out, a little more harshly than he meant to. "And you promised..."

Celia bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” she repeated apologetically and was already backing towards the door, “I know you want me to stay to cuddle and sleep, but I just...I just really want to sleep in there tonight, okay? I miss him so much already. I just need to be close to him, even though he’s not here.” She was at the door, opening it already.

Tom clenched his jaw, remembering when she’d fallen asleep in the hotel room with him, how wonderful it had felt rather than her getting up to leave straight away. But she’d woken up in a panic at about 3am:

_“Oh my god!”_

_Tom awoke with a start sitting up and looking around wildly. “What?” he asked ready to spring into action. “What is it?”_

_“You let me fall asleep here!” Celia jumped out of bed, threw a light on and began frantically looking for her clothes._

_Tom fell back onto the pillow with a groan, rubbing his blinded eyes and yawning once he was happy there was no real emergency. “Celia, darling, why don’t you just come back to bed? It’s…” he glanced at his watch. “...three in the morning. Alastair knows where you are.”_

_Celia stopped what she was doing an spun round to look at him accusingly. “I told you I wanted to go back to him every night: you know that!” She huffed. “You’ve known that from the very first night!” She continued looking for her stuff._

_Tom sat up again, a hand up in supplication. He didn’t want a fight, so he was not going to throw his oar in; that she’d actually told him it would only be the first night that she would go back to him. “Okay, okay,” he said trying to placate her. “I’m sorry. I just...I was enjoying the feeling of you next to me so much. I’m a cuddler, that’s all. It just feels very unnatural for us to part ways after being so intimate.”_

_“We’re intimate because we have an arrangement, that’s all!” she spat as she grabbed her bra, and he was taken slightly aback by her fierceness. “Which, by the way, does not include me taking my ring off, as you tried to do earlier!” She glared at him._

_Tom laughed nervously, trying to break the tension. “That was...that was just a bit of fun. It dug into me when you squeezed my hand so tightly during your last orgasm. I thought to remove it for my own safety.” He smiled sheepishly at her as her visage softened._

_“Oh,” she said and came over to him, taking his hand and looking at his finger. The indentation was not bad, but she still split his fingers apart and gave him a kiss there. “I’m sorry. I do know this is all very...weird. I just want to know that I’m with Al every night. This may have been his idea and all, but I want to assure him it’s him I want to be with at the end of the night. You understand, right?”_

_Tom felt like he was stabbed in the heart. “Absolutely,” he smiled._

_“And, when he’s away, I promise I will stay with you every night. Is that okay?”_

_Tom held up his left pinky finger and looked at her seriously. “Pinky swear?”_

_Celia laughed and grabbed his pinky with her pinky. “Swear!” then laughed hysterically when he groaned in put on pain when her wedding ring dug into him again._

It seemed like she was going back on her promise, which irked him somewhat. But, Tom swallowed his displeasure and tried to plaster a smile on his face that he was sure was so very fake he was sure she’d see right through him. “It’s alright. But you promise tomorrow you’ll stay yeah?” Celia smiled with relief and nodded, blowing him a kiss before slipping out the door.

Tom’s smile faded and he sighed. He tried to fall asleep, but his anger bubbled away just under the surface. He berated himself for feeling this way and tried to think of it Celia’s perspective, but it still came across as her being slightly selfish. This may be all for her, but he wasn’t allowed to have something out of it (apart from the obvious sexual gratification)?

He immediately felt guilty and shook his head. He turned over in the bed, which felt vast and empty and fell into a not-so-deep sleep, dreaming about ways to fulfill Celia’s every fantasy.

 


End file.
